


Spider

by allie_quinn



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-06
Updated: 2015-11-06
Packaged: 2018-04-30 08:33:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5157140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allie_quinn/pseuds/allie_quinn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spider is a harsh name for someone so tender.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spider

Boss only said don’t fuck the women.

Men have pride, men have ego, men don’t want to admit that they enjoy having their wounds tended and bodes fussed over by other able-bodied individuals of their gender.

This silent pride and secret-keeping is strong among the men of MSF, especially when women are so hard to find.

Kazuhira is no different.

He revels in the compliments he receives, his life now so different from that in Japan. There, he was a circus freak, softly Japanese features on an otherwise Slavic build--enemy among us. Here, he is beautiful, fawned over and lusted after--prize to be won.

It’s no surprise that the blush rises in the medic’s face--what’s his codename? Spider?--as fingers nimbly sew up a rather angry gash. Kaz smiles warmly at Spider, and receives a shy nod in return.

_(Kaz thinks “Spider” is a harsh name for someone so tender)_

Right shoulder: cleaned, stitched, and bandaged. Kaz doesn’t miss fingertips that linger just a moment too long on his skin, and decides that maybe he should partake in more CQC training with boss. After all, being evaluated at a “B” rank in combat wouldn’t do for the Boss’ second-in-command.

He’s back almost once a week, like reliable and soothing clockwork, speaking in his odd combination of warm and nasally tones, twinges of victory running through him at gasps and sighs elicited from the medic.

_(He has a sweet face and his lips are full. Not enough hair to grab, but baby-soft growing in from a crew cut. He’d look good on his knees)_

Kaz grows tired of playing coy and shy, until he realizes it’s not a game. The medic is truly under the impression that Kaz is some level of god-tier individual, and this must be corrected. Blue eyes watch from behind tinted lenses as Spider flushes and works on, dabbing at the bloody nose warranting the visit. Spider clucks, asks Kaz to be more careful, and that is all the opening Ladykiller Miller needs.

The blonde teases that the medic has begun to care about him, but fights the voice in the back of his mind--

_(--Hope he cares. Hope he wants. Hope he wonders the same thing when eye contact is made….)_

Spider laughs, the first truly human noise Kaz has heard; it’s a tired chuckle, weary but thankful for company. He informs Kaz that medics are trained to care for wounds, not patients. Not his place, anyway. Not Commander Miller, not--

 

_(Spider doesn’t know that Kaz doesn’t feel like a Commander. Feels more like an abused lover, when he’s told that Boss doesn’t “love” him. Miller, come on, that’s for pussies. Feels like a stupid teenager, when he’s told who he can and cannot fuck. One list is much longer than the other)_

 

Warmth and copper and--is that pineapple?--fills Kaz’s mouth as he pulls Spider close, through the blood and the antiseptic and the pain. Spider doesn’t flinch, as women often do, but relaxes into this kiss as though he’s been waiting for it his whole life.

_(Haha, who’s the teenager now, with a stupid crush? Both of them, admittedly.)_

Kaz learns over the next few weeks that he has a name, one far more fitting than “Spider.”

Luke, medic of the battlefield. Luke, doctor of the Gospels. Kaz cannot help the childish sing-song in his head when he thinks of this man, who is suddenly being deployed on more and more of Kaz’s same detail.

Matthew, Mark, Luke, and--

_(--oh.)_

The names disappear, though, and so do inhibitions. They break the wall, they commune in hushed whispers and secret spaces. They moan through hands and jackets and that stupid yellow ascot as mouths wander and hands explore. Neither is new to this game, but Luke seems so tender and attentive; Kaz can’t tell if it’s shyness, or medic training.

_(Or actual fucking feelings, oh fuck this is bad, oh no)_

Kaz explains that love is not part of the equation, and Luke nods and agrees, every bit the loyal soldier. Love is a luxury that war does not afford, but release is good for morale and keeps people out of trouble. Understand?

_(How can they understand when they fucked over an hour ago and now they’re laying in bed talking? This is not how not-love is supposed to go)_

**

When Luke loses his name for the last time, he no longer remembers the gospel Kaz spoke to him. He doesn’t remember blue eyes and a smug grin staring down at him, between his legs. He doesn’t remember his former life, Matthew, Mark, Luke--

John.

He’s John, the final, the only, the Boss.

 

Kaz, the wounded once more, returning to him like reliable and soothing clockwork. No longer caught in the web of a spider, but still affected by the lethal bite. Not a spider, but a snake. Both carry Venom. Both linger on skin for a moment too long, examining what is left of Kazuhira Miller.

_(I remember that scar on his shoulder, I fixed---------)_

It is bittersweet.

Love is still not part of the equation.

 **  
**Kaz still doesn’t fuck the _women_.


End file.
